


Shiver Shot

by Wayward_and_Worn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Gives Oral Sex, Demon Dean Winchester, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23788963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_and_Worn/pseuds/Wayward_and_Worn
Summary: Demon!Dean is out and about simply minding his own business.  Not quite at the “actively out to murder thy brother” phase.  Somewhere between fresh demon and endless karaoke.  My Demon!Dean is more of the kinder gentler variety.  More bold and less giving of shits but there’s still a code he follows.  And he still loves getting laid.
Relationships: Dean & Reader, Dean & You, Dean Winchester & Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester/Other(s), Dean Winchester/You, Demon!Dean & Reader, Demon!Dean & You, Demon!Dean Winchester & Reader
Comments: 28
Kudos: 64





	1. Part One

She’d had a shivery feeling about the handsome snack the moment he swaggered into her club. She watched his bow-legged, jean-clad ass as he meandered through the semi-crowded space and took a seat next to the stage. He reminded her of something from deep in her past. Something she hadn’t experienced or seen in a long time, but damned if she could place it. She made her way over and was rewarded with heart stopping green eyes and a crooked grin. In a voice just shy of gravelly, he ordered whiskey. Top shelf. 

Upon returning to the bar, she did something she rarely did and pulled rank. Declaring table 20 as hers and hers alone. She got a couple of good-humored pouts from the girls and one of the guys. Handsome devil with the green eyes was hers. 

He was simple enough. Keep the whiskey coming and make sure not to block the view. 

The club filled as the night progressed, there was a bit of an uptick due to the main attraction dancer, Ashes. An unusual but badass name, she had to admit. Oddly, the seats on either side of table 20 remained empty. She hadn’t seen him interact with anyone nor had there been any complaints. He was also the opposite of offensive in other ways. As she’d leaned in to grab an empty glass, she’d gotten close enough to catch his scent. Aftershave, leather, and musk. Intoxicating. 

She straightened, noticing eyes following her. Standing at her full height, she paused, letting him sweep his jade gaze from forehead to feet. “Anything else for you sir?”

She watched as he caught his tongue between his teeth and a grin graced his face. “Dean,” he’d finally responded. “Call me Dean. I only accept “Sir” in certain situations.”

She blushed, like a fucking high school girl. “Okay, Dean. Anything else?”

“Yeah, after this one,” he raised the whiskey glass in his hand, “switch me over to beer.”

She nodded and turned to move away but he spoke again. “Any idea why you’re the only one giving me any attention tonight?”

“That’s by design,” she turned back to face him. 

“Whose design?” His eyes squinted. 

“The boss.” She tilted her head, “Am I not performing to your satisfaction? Dean?” She raised her eyebrows.

This time, when he smiled at her, it was the smile of a predator. Heat started in her core and worked its way out. She liked it. “Oh, you’re performing just fine. Speaking of,” he jerked his head towards the stage, “Are you going to be up there?”

She laughed, “Honey, if I got up there, they’d can everybody else.”

“Even Ashes?”

She returned to his side, leaned down, her lips close to his ear, “Especially Ashes.”

His eyes flashed with heat. “How ‘bout you dance just for me then?”

She turned, “Boss doesn’t like us getting involved with the patrons. Even the exquisite ones.” She clicked her tongue and shrugged with a rueful smile, “I’ll be back with your beer.” Of course, there really wasn’t a rule. She didn’t want to appear too eager even though she wanted Dean between her thighs in the worst way. 

Leaning against the bar at the server station; a voice caught her attention. At first it was the accent, second, the content. 

“You don’t have to beat ‘im. You wouldn’t stand a choonce.” She turned her head to see an impeccably dressed man standing and talking to another man in jeans and a leather jacket just a few seats away. “Simply get these cuffs on ‘im and Moose will take care of the rest.”

She couldn’t hear the response from the other man, but it must have been a complaint because the Englishman … maybe Scotsman, replied impatiently, “Oh don’t be such a bloody coward. I cahnt make this any easier for you. Now get out of my way, they actually have Scotch that doesn’t taste like the arse end of a peasant!”

After the other man skulked off, she leaned over the bar, “Ollie!” She called, “Add my favorite shot to that tray!”

When she returned to Dean, he ignored her until she placed a saltshaker on the table. He looked up at her, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. “That doesn’t look like beer.”

“I got that here,” she placed a bottle on the table, “Ever had a Shiver Shot?”

He tilted his head, hungry grin reappearing, “Not for a very long time.”

She held up a bottle of tequila. “On me. Literally.”

He sat back in his chair, patting his lap and easing his arm around her back as she settled. “What about the “no fraternizing with the patrons” or some shit?”

She shrugged, “Let the boss try to fire me. Besides, I like your eyes.” She handed him the salt, poured the shot, and grabbed a lemon wedge. “Now shut up and lick.” She tucked the shot into the space of her cleavage, and turned her head away, offering him her bare shoulder and neck.

A deep chuckle rumbled through him, “Every incarnation of me will obey that.” He leaned in, the slide of his hot tongue derailing her thoughts. She couldn’t help the moan that escaped. When he pulled away, he glanced up at her, his eyes appeared a darker shade of green. “You taste pretty good as it is.” He tipped the shaker over her skin. 

She could feel the salt crystals flowing down and into her shirt. “I try.”

“I feel like a big bad wolf.” He said to himself. “Maybe later I can get you to let me...” He leaned; his lips so close to her skin she could feel his heat.

“Let you?” She was a little hazy. This man just might be dangerous.

He turned his head, pressing his nose to her throat, “Eat you.” Then pushed his tongue out taking a slow, leisurely lick of salt.

She hummed in pleasure at the feel almost getting lost before remembering her goal. As he bent down, he stole a quick lick over the swell of her breast before taking the shot in his mouth. “Someone is after you, I think.” She whispered against his ear as he tipped his head back, the alcohol flowing freely down his throat. Jesus even his EAR was perfect. She quickly put the lemon wedge in her mouth.

Dean took the empty shot glass from his lips and leaned in, covering her mouth with his, taking the lemon from her but not without swiping her full lower lip with that wicked tongue as he did. She hoped to hell that she wouldn’t leave a spot on his jeans when she finally moved. Sucking hard, he then gently spit it onto the table. “Baby,” he reached up and put his hand at the back of her head, pulling her in, “there’s always someone after me.” Suddenly his lemon sour lips were crashing into hers. His tongue forcing itself against hers, sliding hot as his arms tightened around her.

She let out a moan she wasn’t even aware of and responded eagerly. One of her hands gripping the back of his neck, the other holding tight to his forearm as he reached around to grip her ass. She felt him growl and she was a moment away from losing all control. She pulled away with a heavy gasp, every nerve in her body protesting. “Is it always someone that wears Armani to a strip club with an enforcer named Moose?”

He returned to her vision, his eyes dark with malice. She shuddered; this shouldn’t be turning her on even more. He reached around her grabbing for the salt. “Play along.” He demanded. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and again offered her own. He leaned in, his tongue gliding over her skin. “Ah fuck it,” she heard before his lips closed over the spot where her neck met shoulder. He sucked, hard, but before she could react, released her. “What, exactly, did you hear?” He growled.

She believed Dean when he told her that she shouldn’t worry. She was honestly more concerned for Armani and Moose. She also believed when he said he’d return. But he didn’t. The last she saw of him was when he drained his beer, scanning the room as he stood. He found her back by the bar, met her eyes and winked. He then turned and headed to the men’s room.

She’d seen the man from earlier; following close behind. And that was all. Her attention had been diverted by other customers and by the time she was able to slow down, it was two hours later. There had been no fighting or incidents in the men’s room. But Dean was gone. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, life moves on. She doesn't actually expect to see Dean again. But...

The following evening, she did another thing that she never did. Anymore. 

She danced.

Upon arrival, she was almost body checked by her stage manager who, apparently, had been running back and forth in the hallways. Ashes was missing. She wasn’t answering her phone, and no one had seen her since her last performance of the night. It was now Saturday night; the club was already filling up. The stage manager was looking at her with _that_ look. 

“Oh no, Sable.” She’d protested loudly. “No no no no no! I haven’t danced since I bought this place!!”

“Come on baby, it’s like riding a bike! You were better than the best on your worst days!” Sable took her arm, pulling her off to the side. “Think of it this way, “Renegade, one night only!” no one will even notice that Ashes didn’t show! It will be a huge perk for the regulars, we will definitely get a bump in revenue and you…get a few bucks.” Her pretty little friend smiled, “PLEASE!!” 

She sighed heavily, letting her head thump back against the wall. Twice. She’d had no intention of working the floor that night, but this wasn’t what she meant. She had planned to catch up on some boring paperwork and head home early. She wasn’t going to give herself the chance to roam, hoping for Dean with the gorgeous eyes to return. The memory of his kiss already wouldn’t go away, and it had tortured her all night. She was disappointed in herself at her moonstruck reaction. “Goddammit.” She cursed. 

She did hide in her office the majority of the night, finding an acceptable outfit and practicing. She hadn’t danced in a few years. She was nervous as hell and she hated it. Too soon, it was time. 

She stood in the wings waiting. “RENEGADE!” A heavily male uproar greeted the calling of her name. A beat later, her song began. 

**_Oh mama, I’m in fear for my life from the long arm of the law…_ **

The moment she stepped into the spotlight; habit took over. She moved, she swayed, she smiled out at the room of faceless shadows. She pulled her straps low and quickly lost herself in her routine. She wound her way down the runway to the pole at the end. At the end of her first twirl, she opened her eyes and almost fell right off. 

Dean. His emerald eyes focused hard on her. 

Pausing only a moment she continued. When she could return to where he was still watching her with predatory hunger, she saw a bill in his hand. Making sure she saw it, he let it flutter to the stage. 

“Go ahead… pick it up.” His eyes were gorgeous and hard. 

Dropping to her knees, she crawled towards him, dipping low so that her chin almost touched the stage. Pushing forward, she blew gently, the money, a $100 bill, wafting over the edge and onto Dean’s table. “This one’s free.” She winked. 

Relishing the surprise on his face, she completed her routine and faded to the back of the stage. Thunderous cheers and catcalls echoed down the hallway as she rushed to her office. 

Changing out of her outfit didn’t take long since she only had a thong by the end. She did take a few minutes to count the cash she’d collected. A decent sum, she smiled at the thought. She showered quickly in her private bathroom, wondering if maybe Dean would find his way back. When she was dressed again, she decided to make a run to her SUV. 

As she reached for the hatch, she was shoved violently from behind. Stunned, she struck on her side yet before she could turn, she was grabbed by the hair and yanked back against her assailant. Then felt the cold of a blade at her throat. 

“I knew you were listening. I knew you were warning him, you little whore.” The breath that pushed into her face was rank and she turned her head away, gagging. The hazy reflection in her back window showed a dark figure about the same height. “Because of you I’m going to be demoted!” 

She struggled, flailing her arms and wrestling from the attacker’s grip. She spun, pressing her back to the hatch. Frozen in shock at a face she barely recognized, it was so twisted in rage. “Ash? What the--“ Her question cut off by an elbow pressed hard against her throat. Gasping for air, flight instinct rushing to the surface, she kicked her leg straight out, connecting solidly with the dancer’s stomach, sending her stumbling backwards. 

Ashes shouted in surprise, knife clattering to the ground. Attempting to rush past the dancer to the back door of the club but was tackled. She cried out in surprise on the way down, then cried out again in pain as her bare knees connected and scraped along the pavement. Fist in her hair again, her head was lifted and slammed down. She heard a sickening thud, vision going white. “You’re stronger than the average back alley whore,” she hissed. With a strength her attacker herself shouldn’t have, her head was slammed down a second time. Another thud and her vision started to go black. She was dizzy and could feel blood flowing from the gash in her forehead. 

Taking a gasping breath, she tried to scream, but was choked off when hands encircled her throat. Just as Ashes started to squeeze, there was a squelching sound, a surprised yelp, then darkness.

Crowley wasn’t terribly shocked when Dean kicked in the door of the conference room where he was holding court. He really wasn’t even that shocked when Dean appeared to be covered in a generous amount of blood. What shocked him was what Dean threw down on the table. He ignored the collective gasp from those in the room. 

“Fucking coward.” Dean spat. “So pissed that your little ill-conceived stunt didn’t work, you sent one after her?!”

Looking up at the furious Knight, he tried to look bored. “Not sure why you even care? Unless maybe you were hoping she’d tickle your happy place tonight?”

Then Dean leaned down, one hand on the chair arm, another on the table before Crowley. A smile that was anything but split his face. “Next time, you come for me yourself.” His black eyes quickly scanning Crowley’s. “Since you don’t appear to have a spine of your own, consider this one,” he nodded towards the bloody thing on the table, “a gift.”

With that Dean Winchester, the newly appointed Knight of Hell, strode right back out.

Silence. All focus on him.

“GET THIS BLOODY THING OUT OF MY SIGHT!” Crowley roared.

She rubbed her eyes. She stretched out and relaxed back in her chair, gazing aimlessly around the room. Since the attack a few days ago, she had decided to run the club from behind the scenes and attempt to get caught up on some boring owner-type things. Yay payroll. She sighed. On the other hand, if she was being honest, she never had to work the floor. She did it because she liked it. However, since waking up to the sight of a terrified Ollie calling for help, she’d made herself scarce.

She’d done the whole dance. ER, police photos, police interviews which took so much longer than they needed to. A lot of questions for someone unconscious for the finale. Doctors were surprised that her skull wasn’t cracked with the force of the impact she’d sustained. She had described Ashes at least twice. She could tell that they were having a hard time believing her. She didn’t remember anyone else helping Ashes attack her and no, she didn’t appear to be bleeding when she was threatening to cut her throat. She had to explain that the marks on her neck were all from the attack. Except for the one on her shoulder. No officer, that wasn’t from the attack. Yes, I’m sure.

She had no idea where the massive pool of blood next to her came from. And she sure as HELL didn’t know where any dead body was. If there was a body.

At least Ollie had stopped checking on her every hour. She smiled and spun back to her computer. Her hand absently checking the bump on her forehead. In general, she healed quickly. But this wound wasn’t healing fast enough for her tastes. It still stung like a sonofabitch. And her knees, well, her knees had some considerable road rash. At least her throat didn’t hurt when she swallowed anymore. 

This particular evening, she was only in long enough to complete payroll. After that she had a date with her couch and sweatpants. She was almost done when a knock interrupted her. Before she could reply, Ollie stuck his head in. “Hey uh boss?”

“Hey Ollie, what do you need?” She smiled. 

He briefly glanced back over his shoulder, “Guy out here wants to see you. Said you’d be okay with it. But uh, he doesn’t know your name. Only wants me to tell you…” He paused and looked back at the person behind him. 

“Tell me what?”

“Yeah, uh...Shiver Shot?” The large man looked embarrassed.

She rolled her eyes; but her heart thumped eagerly in her chest. “Let him in Ollie. And thank you.”

Stepping inside, Ollie let Dean pass. Just inside the room, Dean turned back, “You sir, are built like a brick shithouse. And I am glad to not have pissed you off.” He turned back to her with a smug grin. “So,” he put his hands behind his back and rocked back on his heels, “Boss,” he leaned forward, accentuating the word that he let hang in the air for effect. “No wonder you can do whatever you want around here. You gonna tell me your actual name or do I get to use Renegade?” He tilted his head with a smirk, “Although it fits you.” 

Giving her name, she studied him. Black jeans, black tee shirt and a red and, of course, black flannel. How could someone be so damn good looking? She laughed a little and hoped he couldn’t hear her thoughts. “What can I do for _you_ Dean? Not gonna lie, I’m surprised, and glad to see you.” 

“I’m all about surprises, Gorgeous.” He sat in the chair before her desk. “I heard about what happened.” He began, “I wanted to see how you were.”

”Ah,” she rested her arms on the desk, “and not because I was getting the shit kicked out of me because of you?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “I really didn’t think you would be a target.” Dean was pleased to see how calm she was. Most people wouldn’t be. She’d almost been gutted by a demon grunt and here she was, back at work, looking like she’d well, gone a round with a demon, and not a fun one like him. “But I know it won’t happen again.” 

“Oh, it won’t huh?” She touched at her forehead gingerly, a slight hiss as she winced. “Ugh, I wish this would hurry the hell up and heal.”

“That all you get?” He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Surprised your skull wasn’t split.”

“I’ve heard,” she replied dryly. “I also have a good necklace out of the deal,” she tipped her head back so he could see the deep fingerprints at the hollow of her throat. “Lucky for me she didn’t actually know how to choke someone out. Oh, and you should see my knees.”

Before she could register his movements, he was coming around the desk. Leaning casually against the edge, arms crossed over his chest. “Show me.” 

“You want me to just hike up my skirt for you, huh?”

“Honey, I’ve already seen most of you,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “And I really liked what I saw. You were right.”

She blushed.

“I could move your skirt _for_ you, if you like.” That grin was back. And so was the burn in her core. 

She tugged the flowing black fabric to rest loosely over her bare thighs. “See?”

He winced, “Ouch.” He squatted before her, gingerly touching the skin near the wounds. “You really got knocked down.”

“I did.” She threw the fabric back, effectively covering his hand, where it now gripped her calf gently. 

“I wasn’t done.” He looked up at her, his eyes showing irritation as he flipped the fabric back to her lap. She watched him touch the irritated skin around the deeper scratches. “Sorry I didn’t make it back the other night.” He slid his hand down to her bare ankle. She tended to be barefoot in her office. Her shoes normally getting kicked off as soon as she sat down. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

“Y-you have?”

“Yeah.” Kneeling before her, he placed both hands on her ankles and slid them both up carefully avoiding the injuries and then fully up her thighs, now under her skirt. “I thought about you when I jerked off in the shower. And again, in the morning.” Dean had considered taking one of the other dancers from the bar when he couldn’t find her the next night. But after seeing her dance, he wanted _her_. He wanted Renegade. He’d been pondering his next move when he sensed another demon behind the bar. When he saw Renegade on the ground, the other demon slamming her head into the pavement, Dean saw red. 

That was when he learned that he could yank a spine clean out of a body. 

“Can’t stop thinking about you.” He lifted his arms, causing the material to gather high in her lap. “How your skin tasted…” she could feel his fingertips working themselves beneath the lacy fabric around her hips. He rose on his knees, bringing himself to within kissing distance, “How your kiss tasted.”

“Did you like it?” Her eyes scanning his face. 

He grinned, “Yeah.” Then rose the rest of the way, planting his lips on hers. Her hands flew to the sides of his face, quickly turning the kiss deeper. “Even better,” when they parted. “Besides, it’s only right that I thank you for saving my ass.”

She squinted at him, “I have a feeling that we’re even. You’re the reason I survived, aren’t you?”

Another shrug, but his eyes gave him away. He caught his tongue between his teeth. A move that was incredibly alluring. “How about we fuck just for the hell of it then?” She felt his hands tug “Lift.” He commanded and she quickly obeyed.

“Dean,” she took a breath as he slid the garment down her legs. 

“I’ve been thinking about this too.” His fingers tickled at her quickly dampening entrance. “Tell me you weren’t. Tell me you didn’t think about my tongue,” he leaned in forcing his tongue into her mouth. “Here.” He pushed a thick finger just past her pussy lips.

Her legs opened of their own accord. 

“That’s it.” He purred. “Give in to me.” He twisted his wrist, curling his finger to press against her G-Spot. A surge of dampness greeted the motion. His cock stiffened at the sound that escaped her. 

She sighed, moving her body closer to the edge of the chair. He obliged by pushing harder. She moaned wantonly, her eyes closing as her head fell back against the chair.

“Not enough,” his voice was huskier. She felt him pull his hand away from her, followed by shuffling. The next sensation was the delicious sting of his 5 o'clock shadow brush along the inside of her thighs as he leaned in. 

She yelped at the first touch of his tongue, opening her thighs as wide as she could. He growled and focused on her swollen clit before dragging his tongue over the rest of her hungry folds. One leg kicked up onto her desk, the other over his shoulder overwhelmed by the pleasure. “You’re gonna make me cum.” She panted. “Dean. You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Good,” the word muffled by his refusal to take his lips away from her. 

Biting her lip, she slammed her hand down on Dean’s shoulder, gripping tight as her first orgasm rippled through her nerves. A quiet gasp as her body trembled beneath his mouth. 

Sitting back with a satisfied grin, Dean ran his hands over her quivering thighs. “I think you can do better than that.”

“What do you—“ She raised her head.

He stood, unbuckling his belt. “They couldn’t hear you in the parking lot.”

”You make me cum again and they’re gonna hear me in hell.”

A strange expression and a tilt of his head was her only response as he pulled his stiff and beautiful cock from his jeans. “I’m ok with that.” He grunted lowly when she reached and wrapped her hand around his hot length. “Oh, the things I’m gonna do to you.”

“Do you want to do them here?” Her eyes blinked up at him with absolutely NO trace of innocence. 

He met her eyes, his cock stiffening further, causing him to subtly move his hips in and out of her grip. “You want me to do you on the stage?” A thrilling image of her naked, sprawled on the runway beneath him, flashed through his mind. 

She cocked her head with a mischievous grin, “Tempting.” But shook her head instead. “I don’t live far.”

“If you’re willing to—UNNGH!” Dean cried as she’d leaned forward, pulling his entire length into her mouth. He felt himself hit the back of her throat, yet she didn’t gag. He throbbed. Gazing down his body at her, his eyes were wide. “Let’s go.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And what happened next was...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes when I paste, I get paragraphs. Sometimes I don't. I'm sick of fighting it. What I get is what I get. It's like a surprise.   
> Hope you enjoy!

Dean had originally wanted to leave her car behind, promising to bring her back but she’d said that Ollie would have a stroke if her car was here and she wasn’t. He followed her to a decent house in a neighborhood not far at all, as promised. Once inside, he glanced around the large kitchen and sunken living room. Not full of crap, not really that full of much. Some art, a plant, but not much else. He eyed her large sofa. “Where do you want me to fuck you first?”

She came up to him, pressing her hand against his half-sleeping cock which came completely awake at her touch. “Maybe I should finish what I started and then you can decide.”

He moaned when she slipped her hand down the front of his jeans, but he quickly grabbed her arms as she began to kneel before him. “Woah, woah, woah sweetheart. You’re hurt. What kind of asshole would I be if I put you on your knees now?”

She laughed as he squatted and wrapped his arms around her waist, throwing her over his shoulder. “Where’s the bed?”

She directed him down the hall to her room. He pulled up at the door, letting her slide down his front. She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked up at him. “Less wall damage.”

A large bed sat in the very center of the room. Walls painted dusty purple with a light grey accent wall across from the door. Her bed itself was a King, two taller dark oak posts at the intricate, wrought-iron headboard. Two shorter posts with similar ironwork at the foot. The mattress was thick and plush, a pile of pillows at the head and a plain white comforter. 

“I’m tying you to that.” Dean growled.

“If you like.”

He glanced down at her with a look of slight disbelief. “You’ll let me tie you up?” His erection started to strain at his jeans. 

She shrugged, “Should I be scared?”

“The world is full of monsters.” Dean replied soberly. 

“I don’t scare that easily.” She returned.

Far be it for him to turn down a challenge, he held her eyes and blinked slowly. Watching her own widen as her gaze was met by two perfect pools of obsidian. 

“That’s it,” she sighed, a strange relief flooding her body at finally identifying the feeling that had been niggling at her since he walked in. “You’re a demon.” She reached up, putting her hand to his cheek, “Look at you. You’re beautiful.” Her voice carried on a reverent breath. 

Dean was so stunned, when he blinked again, his eyes returned to forest green. “You’re…” his cock throbbed with need as she pressed her front against him and pulled him in for a kiss. Rocked by the hunger he tasted on her lips, he growled. “The things I’m gonna do to you.” He pushed her into her room, slamming the door behind them.

They undressed each other quickly, in a fury of tugging hands and kisses. Dean dropped onto the bed first on his back. His cock upright, full, and ready. “Get on.” 

She crawled up the demon’s body, straddling his hips and holding herself over his erection. Waiting. He slowly gripped himself, fisting a couple times, his eyes rolling back in his head in pleasure. He then pushed himself up into her. She moaned deeply at the hot intrusion; she watched his face intently. 

He smirked up at her and blinked; his eyes turning black. Her core clenched and he grunted in response. She was tighter and hotter than just a moment ago. It wasn’t going to take him long at all to cum. “That what you wanted?” he rasped.

She hummed and nodded, rocking back and forth on his cock. “So beautiful,” she murmured as she rode. The drag and slide of her cunt over him sent shivers of pleasure through his body. One massive advantage of his new state was the heightened sensation of everything. The extra burn of the carbonation in beer to the super exquisite tingle of flesh on flesh. 

Reaching up, he covered her breasts with his hands, squeezing briefly. She arched into his hands, tightening her muscles around him as she continued to rock. 

Sitting up, he leaned up to capture her lips. She responded with passion, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh. The slight sting caused him to growl. He lifted and turned, dropping her onto her back and pushing his cock inside. 

“Don’t stop,” she begged, bucking her hips into him, “Don’t stop Dean.”

He blinked back to his human eyes and resumed fucking her into the mattress. She let out a deep cry that he felt in his blood and his orgasm crested so fast he could only let out his own shocked yelp and pound her as hard as he could. 

He knew that he was much stronger than when he was human, he’d quickly found that he had to keep it in check. This time he couldn’t reign it in, his control was shredded as he slammed her so hard, the thick wood frame started to creak in protest. Yet she was riding him out, cumming soon after with a cry of his name.

“You know demons?” Dean’s voice broke her out of her snoozing. He was pressed behind her, arm draped over her waist. 

“I do.”

“How?”

“There isn’t a whole lot to tell. Well that isn’t true. I’m sure there’s a TON to tell. I just don’t know what it is.” She stretched her body, rubbing against his as she let out a yawn. 

He was getting hard again. His hand gripped her hip, gently pulling her onto her back. 

“My mother was possessed while I was born.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, “Come again?”

She grinned, “My mother was a hunter. But somehow, she allowed herself to be possessed and the demon took on the process of giving birth. I was born healthy and mostly normal.”

“Mostly?”

She indicated the healing wound on her brow, “I heal faster than mere mortals.” She chuckled, “Also, somehow, I’m supposed to be un-possessable.” She shrugged. “Not really willing to test that one.”

“That’s it?”

She nodded. “That’s all she would ever tell me. And it’s not something they explain on a birth certificate. My grandfather was a hunter, apparently. And because she never had a choice, Mom wanted me to follow in their footsteps. Carry on the family--”

“Business,” Dean finished for her, bitterness flooding his mouth. 

“Exactly. And I didn’t want to. So, I didn’t. But not without the full gamut of training.” She shrugged, “I’m quite the disappointment.”

“Not from where I’m sitting.”

She rolled her body up against him. Smiling as his swelling erection poked at her stomach. “So, who is the handsome meat suit you’re hiding in?”

Dean chuckled. “Actually. I’m really me. I’m Dean. There isn’t some other poor bastard stuck in here somewhere.”

“Oh?” She slid her leg up the outside of his hip, cock resting hot on her thigh.

Dean explained the problem, the case, the Mark, and how he became a Demon. He had to admit he enjoyed telling her his story. “So technically I died in that alley. But I woke up. And when I did, the little Scottish jag you saw the other night was standing over me.”

“Who is he?”

“Crowley the current King of Hell.” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Who’s Moose?” She asked.

His features hardened before he whisked the thoughts away. “My brother. Another hunter and he wants to save me.” The last two words full of mocking. “When I specifically told him not to.”

“Hmm… what would you do if the roles were reversed?”

“Respect his wishes.” The demon replied instantly.

“And what would Pre-Demon Dean do?” 

He paused. His eyes darting over her face before he reached between them, swiping his cock through her folds. “I don’t want to talk about my brother.” He teased her entrance with the tip. “Do you?”

Her eyes closed as she pushed her hips closer. “Not if you don’t.” Yet, when she opened them again, they shifted away from his face. Her brow creased and she was biting her lip. He had an urge to put his cock back between those pretty lips. Instead, he reached and turned her face back to him. “What?”

“It’s been a while since I had to do any lore research but...if you have Cain’s Mark, and you died, you’re not just a demon. You’re a--”

“A knight.” Dean finished and nodded. “Fuck. Educated women make me so hot.” His cock was starting to throb. He grunted when she reached down, pulling him closer, slipping farther inside her needy cunt. “See?”

She answered with a push, rolling him onto his back and straddling him. She quickly impaled herself, moaning his name. “Give it to me again,” she purred, and Demon Dean obliged. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final part...

She was startled awake by a growl of rage. When she opened her eyes, she met angry swirling onyx. Dean was kneeling on the bed at her side, looking absolutely lethal even though he didn’t have a stitch of clothing on. She tried to sit up, quickly discovering Dean had tied her to her bed, as promised. Without waking her, he’d creatively used her sheets to bind both her hands and feet. Looking down, she saw she was spread-eagle and as naked as the demon at her side. Unease took root in her stomach. “You really need to warn a girl before you bust out the restraints.” There was a tremor in her voice.

“I can’t get out of bed.” He growled. 

“Well neither can I.” She shot back tugging on her bindings for emphasis. 

“No, you lying bitch. I. Can’t. Get. Out. Of. This. Bed.” The words were hissed through clenched teeth. He wrapped his hand around her throat, not completely cutting off her breathing, but his tone made it clear that he would have no problem doing so. 

She stared at him in confusion until the last traces of sleep cleared, her eyes widened. “Oh shit! No, you can’t.” She tugged again at the bindings. “Dean. I can explain.” She twisted her head and rolled her shoulders, trying to encourage him to release her throat. 

Instead he tightened his grip, black eyes full of malice. “You better. And you’d best stop wiggling. You’re not getting out unless I want you to.” He released her throat, leaned over placing one hand on either side of her torso and rolled, pushing himself between her thighs. Skin to skin, he growled and reached for her wrists, holding tightly. Despite his fury, he was rock hard, and her body was responding eagerly. She moaned as his cock slipped against her. She felt him twitch but Dean continued. “Now tell me how you’re so out of the life but you have a fucking DEMON TRAP UNDER YOUR BED!” He yelled. 

Staring directly into the abyss, she answered him. “My mother made me promise that I would put one under my bed. And that if I physically can’t get out of bed one day, I’m supposed to call… Bob someone. It would mean that the demon that carried me lied.”

“Bob?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. She told me he’s kind of a hermit, holed up somewhere in the Dakotas.” She struggled beneath him, trying to dislodge the velvet slither of his cock against her swelling clit. She bit her lip to fight back a moan.

His eyes widened and his vice grip on her wrists eased, “Bob. Bobby Singer?!”

“That’s it! Yeah. He was the one.” 

The answer calmed Dean so quickly, the change in his demeanor was dizzying. He blinked and his eyes returned to emerald. 

She nodded. “I have no intention of trapping you. When you release me, I will break it.” She tugged again for emphasis, watching Dean’s face. On a hunch, she rolled her hips against him again, and they both moaned as his cock slipped deeper between her folds. She closed her eyes as he slid over her clit again. This time deliberately. 

“You’re insatiable.” Dean rumbled, answering with a rolling of his hips, sliding back and forth through her slick. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you liked my hand on your throat.” He rested his full weight on her, squashing her breasts between them as he let his lips trail over her pulse point. “You like it rough, don’t you?” 

She moaned, twisting beneath him. “I can’t help that everything you do feels so fucking _good_.”

“It failed you know,” Dean practically purred as he pushed back up and brought his mouth back down to pull a tightening nipple into his mouth. 

“Unnh, it did?” She arched her back as much as her bonds would allow.

“A demon, DID get into you.” One hand slid down her side, gripping her hip tightly while he began pumping his hips.

She shivered. “Is he going to do it again?” She grunted unhappily when she tried to open her legs more but was stopped by the knotted sheets. 

“Yeah,” he continued rubbing his cock against her. “But first, I think you should just stay where you are and take your everything that I give you.” Soon, he was shimmying down her body, and placing his face between her thighs, pulling apart her folds with his thumbs and slowly dragging his tongue from entrance to clit.

“Dean,” his name almost lost in the growl he let out at her taste. 

She was so wet for him. In exchange, he was hard as steel, and he couldn’t figure out what hole he wanted to stuff it in first. He opted to edge her until she was only capable of vowels and his name. When he finally focused his tongue on her swollen clit with three fingers pumping and rubbing her g-spot, she came so hard that he could hear the sheets tearing.

But he wasn’t done. Crawling back up her still spasming body, he covered her mouth with his as he thrust himself inside her. Her swollen folds accepted him easily and she came again, screaming into his kiss. He wrapped his arms under her shoulders and fucked her hard. 

“Untie me.” She panted. “Please Dean. I need to touch you.” He could feel her struggling against her bonds in spite of the thorough fucking he was giving her. 

He smiled darkly, “Should I?”

Staring daggers into his eyes, she bit her lip and _pulled_. The room filled with a tearing sound as she ripped the sheet completely, freeing one hand. However, instead of using it to free the other one as he expected, she wrapped around Dean’s back digging her nails in hard enough to draw blood as she came again. 

The pain and surprise of what she’d done pushed him over the edge, and he came hot and hard, spurting his release inside her. His vision going hazy when he roared her name. 

“You’re strong.” He muttered once he settled.

“Yes.” She replied, kicking out of the restraints at her feet. “I am.” With that, she wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed him tight. “You’re still hard.”

“Yes,” Dean breathed, kissing her deep. “Hang on sweetheart. I’m gonna ride you again.” 

“Were you going to sneak out?”

“Hmmm?” It was Dean’s turn to be tugged from dozing. Tucking one hand beneath his head, he placed his other hand on the back of her knee where she was currently draped on her stomach over his legs. Her front half disappearing over the side of the bed. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Removing the trap. Were you going to sneak out on me?” He watched as she pulled a dark fabric from beneath the bed and tossed it in the corner.

“No. I was actually going to make breakfast for us.” He slid his hand up her thigh and gently gripped her ass. “I thought you’d be hungry.”

Her stomach growled, “Is that offer gone now?”

He shrugged, suddenly in no rush to get out of bed. “I think lunch is more appropriate at this point.” He slapped her ass and laughed at the surprised yelp. 

Dean insisted that she stay bare for lunch. She easily agreed when he told her that he’d take care of everything. 

By taking care of everything, Dean meant ordering delivery and fucking her again on her couch until it arrived. Fortunately for the delivery driver, the demon did put on pants to answer the door. 

“Your brother isn’t going to give up you know.” She said as they finished eating. 

“No.” Dean sighed, tossing his napkin among the scattering of empty wrappers. “Speaking of, where’s your phone?”

“Why?”

“Just…where is it?”

She stood, gathering up some of the garbage to throw away as she grabbed her bag from the kitchen counter. Pulling the phone out, she checked it quick. She had a couple of missed calls from Ollie and Sable, but they’d wait. “Here.”

Dean took the phone and began tapping on it. “His name is Sam, my brother. I’m putting his number in here because Bobby Singer is dead.”

“What?”

“Your promise to your mother.” He slid the phone back to her. “Bobby’s dead so he can’t help you. But Sam can. If HE survives, that is.” A strange smile graced the Knight’s face. 

She studied the phone for a moment then placed it to the side. “Thank you.”

Dean shrugged.

“What should I tell Sam if, for some reason, he comes looking for you and finds me?” 

He pulled her into his lap, just like he had in the beginning and kissed her deeply. “Everything.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 – The chapter GOD NEVER INTENDED
> 
> Sam answered the unfamiliar number on the third ring. “Hullo?”  
> An equally unfamiliar voice responded. “Sam?”  
> “Yes, who is this?”  
> “This is Sam, Dean’s brother?”  
> “Dean’s,” he glanced over at his brother who now was watching him with bright green curiosity filled eyes. “Yes. And you are…”  
> “Y/N,” a shuddering sigh, “Dean gave me your number a couple months ago and said you’d be able to help me.”  
> “Tell me what’s wrong.” As he finished, he put took the phone away from his ear and put it on speaker, holding it out between them.  
> A voice Dean had never thought he’d hear again crackled through the speaker and straight into his bruised heart. “Sam, I can’t get out of bed.”
> 
> I'm sorry. I am SO SORRY.  
> I didn't want to do this but it wouldn't stop torturing me until I wrote it. So this is a BIG WIDE OPENING to continue someday...


End file.
